Cormyr_ a novel - Ed Greenwood [162]
The other noble's eyebrows went up, encouraged, Ondrin rushed on. "They're saying the war wizards were furious. They thought a few spells would find out who was behind it all, once they got hold of one of the assassins, but when they started fishing them out of the harbor, they were headless and positively aglow with dead-magic fields!"
The eyebrows went up again. "Dead magic? That sounds like the work of someone a little more powerful than your average war wizard!"
Ondrin seemed to purr with satisfaction. "And you know there's only one man in Cormyr who fits this little scenario! As it happens, I was talking with our esteemed Royal Magician just the other day-a few private matters, you know…"
* * * * *
The gong by the bath's door sounded faintly, as if a discreet fingernail had tapped it.
Gaspar Cormaeril lifted his mouth from the stunningly beautiful woman and smiled coldly. "Approach!" he called, rolling her aside in the warm, languid waters with a firm hand and reaching for a glass of smoking blue wine, a rare and expensive import from a very distant place indeed, with the other.
Sensibly the lass settled deeper into the waters and nestled into the crook of the noble's arm. The scented waters were still roiling from her movements when the man in dark leathers padded to the edge of the pool, knelt, and murmured, "News you should hear, lord. Ondrin Dracohorn's been heard talking of the deaths and tracing them to House Cormaeril!"
Gaspar sipped at his wine. "Has he, now? Well done, Tuthtar! Send Elios to watch over our talkative little noble for the rest of the day, and then get yourself something to eat. I'll have something important for you later." He gave the man his serpent smile, nodded in dismissal, and turned back to the willing lass, sliding down into the deeper waters of the pooi again.
She began to murmur softly, Gaspar let her do so for a very short time before he rolled over again and pressed a button that flanked the marble lip of the pool. A message gong sounded in the distance, and it had barely fallen silent before another man entered the room and knelt in smooth, practiced haste. "Lord, command me," he said.
Gaspar smiled coldly. "It has become necessary to remove Ondrin Dracohorn. Someone is bound to take him seriously, eventually. And see to poor Tuthtar as well. Ensure to his everlasting silence forthwith, before he has a chance to gossip in the kitchens."
"At once, lord," said the man and turned with a grin.
"A pity," Gaspar murmured, taking the willing lass into his arms again, "but I can't have folk around who know too much about two fates. Every mouth that can talk of such things is a peril House Cormaeril cannot afford."
He looked down at the woman, as her emerald eyes met his, they widened in sudden fear.
"Another pity," Gaspar said with a smile, as he pressed another button to summon a second assassin.
* * * * *
The man in robes strode past, looking grim. The two guards nodded in salute. When the man was safely gone and a stout door closed behind him, one of the Purple Dragons muttered, "That's the first time I've seen Lord Alaphondar in days now. Where's he been, I wonder?"
The other guard shrugged. "Best not to wonder, I've found. He's in there with Dimswart now, though, and by the looks of things, he's bringing along grim news with him." He frowned. "I wonder what…"
Not far away, a dark figure peeled itself away from a pillar and stroked her chin. What indeed? And just where had the sage been? It was high time to get some answers. A black-gloved hand fell to the hilt of a ready dagger.
* * * * *
The Crown Princess of Cormyr buried her face in the pillow and sobbed as she had never sobbed before, until she strained for breath and her ribs ached. The handkerchief held beneath her cheeks was sodden, and her hair was everywhere, and she felt sick, yet still she could not stop weeping.
"Oh, gods!" she wailed in frustration.
"My lady!" Aunadar's voice came to her, and a moment later his soothing hands touched her